Sniper and an Aussie
by Preddlebunny
Summary: After recieving a disturbing letter from Goodsprings Boone sets out to find out what happened to the courier, and winds up babysitting a stray as well Boone/OC.
1. Chapter 1

Boone subconsciously wiped the sweat from his brow. The sun beating down on him from the center of the sky was almost a warning as much as it is a pain. He had to slow his pace slightly in order to conserve water for the rest of the trip. He cursed the fact that he left the lucky 38 later than he intended and now it would probably take him up to a week and a half to get to Goodsprings at this pace.

A crow flew overhead and he watched it with envy as it circled and glided with the breeze. If only he were a bird then he wouldn't have to walk all the time. His ears listened for anything and everything from the crunch of his combat boots to the crackle of a tumble weed rolling by. In a strange way he'd missed the wastelands. The NCR had kept him within the confines of Vegas for almost two months and even though the 24 hour access to booze and cheap prostitutes were fun he wanted a little bit of wide open space every now and then.

He breathed in the familiar musty air through his nose

As he picked his way through the potholes and broken down, pre-war vehicles he halted behind a stray pile of rubber tires when he finally got to a clearing. What at first he thought was a raider or even legion he was mildly surprised to find it was a very young looking girl. Even though she was a hundred feet away he could tell that the wasteland life showed on her pretty well. She wore a soiled merc troublemaker outfit that clung to her due to sweat and dark shades covered her eyes from where he could see. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, short and choppy as it slicked down on her neck.

Boone crouched ,using one hand to steady him, and watched the figure head toward a gap in the boulders to the right of the road up ahead. In her hands he saw a weapon he was surprised a young girl like her could get her hands on. With a sniper rifle in her hands she stood at the gap just staring at something inside the crevice.

He shifted his weight to his heels and crept around the other side of the rocks, but when he saw what the girl was looking at he wished he hadn't. Boone wasn't sure that the girl noticed but right there in a corner next to a tall cliff that hugged the mountains was a Deathclaw nest with three eggs nestled inside. Instinctively he pressed himself into the rock face and looked up at a trail that staggered down the mountains. His chest tightened when he saw two Deathclaws lumbering down toward their nest. He had to get that crazy girl out of there before she got shredded.

Now Boone wasn't one for risking his life for another's' stupidity, and he was probably stupid himself for doing so now, but the damn kid looked about only sixteen at the most. A sixteen year old girl with a Ranger issued sniper rifle.

The moment he crept out of sight he sprinted toward the figure standing in plain view of the monsters. She only had a moment yelp in surprise as his body collided with hers. He swore he heard a curse escape her lips before the both of them landed with a hard thud behind the boulders and out of sight.

The air filled with a putrid scent , and Boone covered the young girls mouth with his gloved hands. He was familiar with the musky scent of death these creatures gave off if they were within a hundred meters of you.

"Deathclaws", he whispered down at her, an obvious signal for her to be quiet, as he turned his head to listen.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his palm. She was biting him? He withdrew his hand with an astounded grunt of pain.

"Are you out your bloody mind?" with a surprisingly strong shove she pushed herself away from him.

"I just saved-"

"What is it common courtesy to tackle another to the ground nowadays, aye?" her bewildering accent wasn't the only thing confusing him at the moment. The young wanderer propped herself up into a crouch grumbling under her breath as she gathered some of the things that had fallen from her pockets.

He sat up bringing his rifle around his back, "there are Deathclaws over there..you didn't seem to-".

"Aye, of course there are that's the whole point mate", she picked up her sniper and growled at him after surveying the weapon, "now you stay your bloody ass 'ere. You're gonna pay for any damage to my weapon". Her eyebrow twitched upward in obvious anger.

Boone didn't even know why he was still even standing there. A girl with this bitchy of an attitude and no appreciation would have been ditched long ago, but he was curious to see how this would play out. She brushed past him still grumbling under her breath with that funny accent she harbored. He winced when she walked out into plain sight of the nest and their occupants.

He peeked around the corner, risking his presence, and was mildly surprised the Deathclaws haven't smelled or seen her yet. They were huddled around the nest sniffing the eggs making sure no intruders have bothered them.

The first recon sniper watched as the woman got down on one knee and took a shot. A loud pop echoed off the mountains as she hit one of them directly in the head. Of course, it didn't kill it. The shot only managed to piss the male off and while the other one recovered with shrilling whines the male hissed and came charging toward her. Boone started backing up, readying his rifle in his palms. This girl was suicide.

She just stood there like a statue facing the rain and he swore he saw a menacing smile crossing her lips through her wind tousled hair. When for certain he thought the creature was going to lunge and cut her in half a series of large explosions shook the ground under his military boots and threw up clods of red dirt into the sky. Boone didn't even notice the carefully hidden mines that lay dotted across the gap in front of her. She had cleverly laid a trap. The two wastelanders crouched as another series of explosions ripped up the earth when the other Deathclaw joined its friend at the attempt to kill her. Clods came raining down after moments of silence.

Boone slowly rose, still wary, and watched with his mouth hung open slightly as the young wanderer picked her way through what remained of the fearsome mutants whistling a tune. He walked over to her, brushing bunches of dirt that had fallen unto his uniform and avoiding stepping into meat chunks that now littered the small crevice of a mountain.

The wanderer grinned as she dusted off one of the eggs held in her palms, "those blokes would have tracked me across the Mojave if I hadn't blew them to bits". She started wrapping each large egg carefully in a cloth, "If only my own parents were so persistent mate", she chuckled depositing them in a large backpack.

"You risked your life against Deathclaws for eggs?" He was starting to get the impression that this girl had the brains of a twelve year old.

Brown eyes, squinting through sunlight stared up at him. He couldn't help but notice the array of freckles scattered across her dirty features. "Aye" she nodded smiling the way a child with a newfound toy would, "been setting up for this nest for at least a week now". She stood and swung the large bag over her shoulder carefully, "learnin' the parents' habits, when they leave to feed, to drink, how often they sleep things like that. The trick is to cover ya scent. They might have sight of a mole rat but those buggers can really sniff ya out".

Boone couldn't help but give the girl his signature, 'you've got to be kidding me' look. People across the wasteland do whatever they can to avoid Deathclaws, so camping them out wasn't something 'normal'. Even a raider hyped up on enough psycho to fill a Brahmin wasn't that crazy. But he had to admit what she laid out was clever though insane.

She registered his expression and shrugged, "for 1,200 caps a heist it ain't bad. Sure things might go wrong one day and I might get turned to ground meat for younglings but ay!" she slapped him on the arm, "what's life without a little risk mate?"

Boone frowned, "where did you get an NCR sniper rifle?"

The wanderer raised a questioning brow but smiled nonetheless, "if ya wondering if I stole it from an NCR lad you can drop ya worries. My old man was a general back in the day snagged it off of em". She picked up the dirtied weapon as she would a newborn, "not in the greatest condition but she does what I need. Gettin' thrown to the ground after its owner being tackled probably wasn't the best thing for it ya know".

Boone grunted an apology and turned around making his way out of the crevice before any relatives decided to show up. If she wanted to stay around and play hunt the Deathclaw be his guest.

He heard her small footsteps catch up with him, "didn't get ya name? Mines Becka, father said it was an Australian name. Not sure what it means though. I'm sure he told me I just don't remember".

"Boone", the sniper replied.

"Aye, no first names then? Unless that is ya first name. In that case your parents must have not liked you", her chuckling ceased when Boone glared at her through his shades.

"Right. Well where ya headed Boone?"

"Goodsprings".

"Ahh good old, down home Goodsprings, reminds me a lot of the down under", her chocolate eyes distanced out for a moment while he thought of what the heck a 'down under' was.

"And it just so happens I'm heading to 188 Trading Post which is on the way there. Unless you plan to cut through Sloan which I highly don't recommend. Lots of nasty buggers up that-a-way, kill ya soon as look at ya, and I'm not just talking about the Deathclaws mate".

The sniper couldn't help but roll his eyes under the protection of his shades. He knew where this was going. He stopped in his tracks almost causing the younger to bump into his back, "look I have a long way to go and I don't have time to chat. So what are you getting at kid?"

Her thin brows furrowed as she crossed her arms, "watch who ya callin' a kid 'ere. I'm probably only a few years younger than you my friend".

His skeptical eyes lingered up and down her form, "just how old are you?"

"Not sure about the exact date but I'll be twenty three in a couple months".

Boon was mildly shocked. He thought Becka no more than at least seventeen years of age hell she was only 5' 5'' at the least and her face, she had a small pixie face that reminded him of a thirteen year old girl with freckles and all. If it weren't for the early signs of aging due to the harsh wasteland effects on her appearance he would have guessed her younger.

He 'hmphed' and resumed walking.

"So I was thinking we could travel together". He heard the clinking of her heavy pack as she hurried to maintain his long strides.

"And why would we do that?"

She lingered up beside him pointing out the obvious, "we're heading the same way and those bushrangers are less likely to bother two people than one". Becka raised a slim finger, "and besides you at least owe me the civility of escorting me there. I mean you did knock the bloody breath out of me chest back there, and caused at least a hundred caps worth of damage to my sniper".

He could see the logic of her proposal despite his obvious distaste in traveling with chatty companions. The Courier was his lesson in that field. Also, now that the NCR controlled a lot of territories there were bound to a lot of hostiles roaming the wastes since they were pushed out of their land. Boone could handle himself but two snipers were better than one.

"Fine, only to 188".

"And not a step farther mate. My word!" she grinned in victory with a little more pep in her step as she skipped along his side.

Boone tried to ignore the extra footfalls as he stared out over the Mojave. He watched two mole rats digging a hole chattering to each other like quarreling lovers and he couldn't help but think of the old friend he was traveling to see. The miles they walked for the next two hours were mostly uneventful thankfully with the occasional prospector here and there, but nothing threatening. Becka wasn't as chatty as he previously thought either. She talked occasionally about things in the Mojave she had learned such as what type of plants to eat and how to eat it. She would often stray off the path, pick a prickly pear cactus fruit and come prancing back talking about how she was going to make some jelly toast. He hoped she knew there hadn't been bread in ages.

"We'll camp here", the sniper said suddenly. The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains to the west, casting ghostly shadows across the Mojave Desert as it did.

"There's still plenty of light mate ya sure you wanna stop now?" she asked shifting the pack on her back.

He looked back at her sunlit face, "yes I'm sure".

The younger shrugged her exposed shoulders, "you're the boss".

He gestured to a cluster of tall boulders that formed a half moon shape, "There, should keep us hidden enough".

Boone started gathering firewood from stray tumble weeds snagged on the nearby rocks. Soon he and Becka had a small campfire going in time for the suns light to say goodbye to the cursed desert and sheath the area in a bluish black blanket full of howling coyotes.

Becka used some water to clean off her face and rinse the gathered dirt from her hair. It was kind of like a makeshift sponge bath, and then when she was settled she reclined back against the smooth heated boulder behind her just gazing into the stars.

"Ya know now matter how bad the world gets the stars are always the same", she took a deep breath through her nostrils, savoring the dusty smell as if it was the scent of a freshly rained pine forest.

She lifted her head watching the recon soldier as he shuffled through his pack. Becka wasn't sure if he had actually heard or had chosen not to. He cursed under his breath when he didn't find what he was looking for.

Becka pulled out a cactus fruit she gathered earlier. Once you got past the bitter aftertaste they weren't so bad.

"Here ya go mate", she tossed him the palm size fruit as she pulled out one for herself. "They're not so bad once you get used to 'em. Wouldn't say they're as tasty as a sanger especially ones like mum used to make". The Aussie pulled out her pocket knife and began cutting pieces off and plopping them in her mouth.

"Thanks", he mumbled doing the same. They sat across from each other with the fire in between eating in silence until Becka couldn't stand listening to the coyotes howling any longer.

"So Boone", she started while ruffling through her back pack. When she pulled out a small black flask the wanderer continued, "You're from the big smoke eh?"

He rose his brow in surprise, "how'd you know?"

" I know a show pony when I see one my friend. Pass 'em all the time. Little snookers think they're too good to stay in the wastes. Not saying you're one of 'em mate, no I can see in ya eyes you've been there and done that".

He stared quizzically at the younger not sure what half of what she said was.

"Ah, but you NCR blokes are used to it aren't ya?" she took a swig of what he believed to be was alcohol in that black container. "Get your leaves and such in Vegas if I'm correct".

Boone pulled out his own bottle of vodka and took a sip. He savored the burning sensation that swam down the back of his throat, "yea I was stationed in Vegas for a while".

"Never been there myself, but heard all about it. Those bloody securitrons wouldn't let me pass the blooming gates. Ah well not like I wanna be winging around that place anyway. I'd get in more trouble than the caps are worth".

"Where did you say you're from?"

"My father sailed here from Australia when I was just five years old. Then he joined the NCR. If you think the creatures are bad here mate you oughta see them back there. A nice place my old home if you knew how to take care of yourself", she brushed her damp hair to the side, "one day I might go back".

"Why would you leave in the first place?"

Becka shrugged indifferently, "mum was killed by a giant radgator, so father decided it was time to leave", she threw up her hands, "so here we are, or I am at least".

Boone didn't bother asking her about her dad. He didn't even know why he asked her questions about her home in the first place. Perhaps it was because she was different than anyone he's ever met. Despite his antisocial personality he was actually quite curious about her. Becka didn't seem fazed about talking of her dead mother or supposedly dead father either, and that made him wonder as well, but he pushed all his questions in the back of his mind. He didn't have time to problematic strays.

He continued to gulp down the vodka in hopes the burning would be enough to keep the dreams at bay, but at the same time knowing it wasn't going to work. Boone noticed the aussie looking at him strangely but she tried to cover it by shifting her body an scratching her short choppy hair.

"I'll take first watch".

The younger stifled a yawn, "perfectly fine by me". She took off her torn leather jacket and positioned it under her head. In moments she was fast asleep with her slight back to the fire, snoring loudly.


	2. Chapter 2

Boone awoke from his drunken slumber at the smell of something cooking. He stirred and looked up from where his head had previously been laying on his arm with sleepy eyes.

He saw Becka in the early morning light stirring a can of something that was placed near the smoldering fire pit. She was humming a sad tune to herself but was smiling nonetheless. The sniper groaned and let his head fall back down. He had to quit drinking so much before sleep.

"Morning sleeping beauty", she chimed.

With a little more sunlight stimulation he sat up brushing the dirt off his outfit. When he got a wiff of the food again his stomach grumbled and his mouth watered. A little piece of fruit yesterday didn't exactly fill him up.

"Here", she handed him the can of pork n beans wrapped in a cloth, "nothing like irradiated beans for breakfast eh?"

He accepted the food wordlessly and ate while she cooked up one for herself. He saw her glance at the empty vodka bottle next to where he was sleeping while she ate.

"So I take it you fell asleep during your watch?"

He grunted in reply but said nothing more. He didn't feel like explaining himself to anyone right now especially with the hangover he had at the moment.

She shrugged and shoved a spoonful of moist beans into her mouth, "good thing I set those mines last night then".

Boone glared hardly at her. This chick had a dangerous fetish for mines. "And you didn't bother telling me?"

Becka shrugged again with a smile, "don't get your panties in a wad mate it was a joke. Wouldn't want you going off to take a piss and come back in pieces now would we?"

"That's not funny", he grumbled throwing the now empty can into the fire.

"Geesh I get more response to a joke from a cactus", she muttered mimicking Boone with her can. She stood and started stretching until he heard the cracking of her tendons. "Well, we better shove on. If we get going now we'll make it to Grub n' Gulp by noon".

Boone nodded remembering the time he and the courier stopped there to sleep. With care she hoisted the backpack full of eggs on her back and picked up her rusted sniper rifle.

They were off moments later down the potholed, littered road by eight o' clock. The sun only a few inches up over the mountains was already pounding them with its violent rays. Becka looked up at an old road sign that wilted over like a dead plant. She wondered what it was like to drive around in cars instead of walking everywhere.

"Hey Boone, have you ever seen a car?"

"Plenty of 'em", he replied not changing his expression. They just so happened to pass a disfigured truck that looked like a giant fist had crushed it from the top.

She faked a laugh, "funny guy, no I mean one that isn't crushed and is in working condition".

He raised his brow slightly and looked at her, "no".

"Well I read a book once and it said that it took them to speeds up to 100 miles an hour. Just think of all the time we could save with one of those!"

"Yea if you could find one intact".

Becka grabbed a nuka cola out of a satchel around her waist, "did you know that they had fast ones that raced around a track for competition?"

A crow flew overhead cawing loudly as Boone readjusted his beret. He saw her huffing to get the cap screwed off the bottle with little success.

"Here", he grabbed it from her and twisted it off with ease.

Becka smirked, "thanks mate, I loosened it for ya". She swore she saw him smile slightly in response.

"I was thinking as soon as I'm done at the 188 I'm gonna head West maybe find a place by the beach in California. I want to open up a repair shop for weapons and stuff. My father was a great engineer back in his days and-"

Boone stopped abruptly and lifted his hand to silence her, "do you hear that?"

Becka strained her ears. She did hear something. It sounded like a rythmatic beat of the wind but when she truly concentrated it was a buzzing sound.

"Cazadors!", Boone shouted just as three of them came flying over a hill. He had his gun out before Becka could even get her hands on hers. She pulled out her 10mm and dropped her pack to the ground hoping the contents weren't cracked. With unbound determination two of them managed to reach her before Boone could take them out after shooting down the first.

Becka rolled backwards as one of them attempted to slice her with its stinger. The shots from her gun echoed throughout the Mojave as she brought one down. It buzzed madly and twitched before dying. The aussie felt something cool in her back and heard the maddened chittering from the third Cazador before ducking and rolling to the side. Boone took care of it with a quick shot to its head.

Becka huffed and stood on shaky legs grumbling, "Bloody bugs".

"Probably a nest around here", he stated ripping the poison sack from one of them.

"Well….let's shove on..before-".

Boone saw her sway out of the corner of his eyes, "you okay?"

Becka steadied herself and nodded pressing a palm into her eyes, "yea just a little light headed". Her dark brown eyes met his in confusion as she blinked a couple of times, "do you smell bacon?"

Before the sniper had a chance to respond she fell to the ground too fast for him to reach out and catch her. He rushed over and noticed the large black stinger protruding out of her back. Cazador stingers would dig into human flesh until it was completely submerged, the poison with it, and if the sting wasn't treated in six hours…

Cursing to himself he picked her up bridal style. He should probably leave her pack here in order to get there faster. He used the toe of his boot to tap her discarded bag and frowned when green liquid oozed out of it. She was going to be pissed beyond belief. Boone slung her sniper over his shoulder along with his rifle and started marching to the 188.


	3. Chapter 3

Boone found himself rythmaticaly tapping his beer bottle with his index finger. He watched the sun, like a fiery hoop in the sky, set in the West Mountains, occasionally peeking over the rough, teeth-edges of the horizon. As the shadows of dusk grew longer his patience grew thinner. He knew he needed to get to Goodsprings as soon as possible, but he couldn't help but feel responsible for the wanderer's misfortune. He had to at least stick around until she came to.

His gloved fingers traced the outline of a note in his pocket. Boone's tolerance was wearing thin with each passing hour. The questions and concerns in his head were starting to cloud his better judgment. If he hadn't been worrying maybe the aussie girl wouldn't have been skewered by a Cazador. Maybe if he'd been thinking straight the Cazador would have been dead before it even got close. He felt himself starting to slip day by day.

The sniper drank the last drop of beer and discarded the bottle against a brick wall causing a stir of the two malnourished Brahmin in the makeshift pin nearby. He watched the amber glass shatter and hit the ground reminding him of his entire, broken life. His attentions were turned when Lupe, another saleswoman at Grub n' Gulp, came out of the small shack.

Her face was a twist of emotions he couldn't read. Boone shoved his sunglasses unto his forehead when she walked over to him.

"Your friends fine and alive, we've helped alleviate the pain and slowed down the poison's progression".

Boone nodded, "but it's not gone?"

Lupe sighed. She was a young saleswoman; at least twenty years old and yet the life of a trader made her already look twenty years older. "Unfortunately neither Fitz nor I have any Antivenom, and she'll need a large dose of it to completely get it out of her system".

His eyebrows knitted together, "what can be done?"

"You can take her to Doc Mitchell down in Goodsprings. He is the closest doctor. She'll be able to walk on her own two feet by morning. I'm sure he'll have what she needs".

Now it was his turn to sigh as he rubbed his stubble under the beret, "how long does she have?"

The merchant shrugged, "Fitz said three days give or take, but by then I'm sure she'll wish she was dead". She handed him a small drawstring bag about the size of his palm, "give her some psycho to keep her going until ya'll get there and mentats when she starts to feel pain again. She can stay in there for the night, and you can sleep over there by the fire".

Boone followed her finger to a few mattresses that have been laid out camper style by a lit fire. He supposed it was better than his arm. After thanking Lupe he walked over and made himself comfortable. About an hour later Fitz came out with some charred Brahmin steak.

"Lupe might be a woman but she doesn't have a lick of sense when it comes to cooking", said the bearded man as he plopped down by Boone. Fitz handed him a plate while he kept one for himself.

"Thanks", Boone muttered as he took another beer that was offered along with it, "For helping out with Becka too".

He shoved a forkful of burnt steak into his mouth, "just an NCR helping another NCR. Sniper platoon huh? A very nice field to go into if you're in to that sort of thing".

Boone chuckled slightly. No one really knew that a sniper career chose you not the other way around. "I guess so".

"So you and your girlfriend out on vacation or something? I could certainly think of a better way to-"

"She's not my girlfriend!", the first recon snapped back a little too loud for the quiet rest stop. He almost felt the cattle stare over at him in curiosity. Boone cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence, "she's just someone I picked up along the way, a friend I guess you could say".

The mans lips pursed under his scraggily beard, "I see, a stray huh? She's an odd one I'll give her that. Started saying things that made no sense when she came to. Feisty too, couldn't get her to lie down for a moment".

Boone only nodded in agreement between successive bites of his dinner. Fitz and he conversed for the next hour about the past and future of the NCR. Boone found out that Fitz had once been a ranger, but was relieved when he couldn't follow a direct order because it was too immoral. He wouldn't tell him exactly what the order was, but Boone didn't press the matter.

The sniper knew that all too well.

"_**The bloody hell!"**_

Both men turned sharply toward the shack as Becka's voice penetrated the still night and the thin wood of the shack. He heard shuffling, Lupe telling her to calm down and then breaking glass like someone was chunking bottles. Boone got up instinctively and ran into the shack.

Becka was a mess he could say the least. Her hair was in great disarray and her eyes rimmed with red with the look of a cornered coyote in them. She was pulling at an IV taped into her wrist with determination that had her baring her teeth like a wild animal. Lupe had her dressed in nothing but pants and bandages around her breast and where the wound from the Cazador was.

"Fuckin' chems! Get em out of me!", she hissed breaking Boone away from his gaping.

"Becka!", his voice immediately broke her from her savage behavior. Her wild eyes dancing over to his while she struggled to catch her breath.

Lupe, looking like a scared mole rat at the moment, spoke up, "she needs to put the IV back in. It's the medicine that's slowing the progression of the poison".

Her narrow, brown eyes suddenly snapped back at the young trader, "like hell you're gonna stick me with more chems mate now bug off!"

Boone squatted down in front of her causing her to tense skittishly, "Put the IV back in your arm it's what's going to keep you alive through the night".

Her thin lips trembled, "I….can't".

Boone couldn't admit he wasn't curious as to why she didn't want the medicine in her. Maybe she just wasn't a chem person even though they were responsible for stabilizing her at the moment. She was acting like a child's first time petting a dangerous animal.

"Yes you can", he grabbed the transparent tube with the needle amateurishly taped on the end. He grabbed her wrist, but before he replaced the needle he looked up at her through shaded eyes, "just for tonight".

Ignoring her plea that didn't quite leave her lips he gently pushed the needle back into the tube in her wrist. She passed out again on the bed before she could protest any further. Boone grumbled under his breath after he had positioned her correctly so she wouldn't be waking up with any more discomforts. He watched her for moment noting how uncomfortable she looked. It was like she had never taken chems before. Out in the Mojave they're all that keep you alive. He could only watch her childlike face distort into a series of excruciating expressions before his own eyes began to feel heavy.

"You should probably stay in here in case she wakes up again", Fitz said from the doorway. "Me and Lupe will be outside if you need us, and make sure she keeps that IV in all night if you want her to be able to move by morning". Boone didn't even acknowledge the man before he heard the door creak and slam shut behind him. Soon he was left in a room of silence save Becka's erratic breathing and occasional snores.

He pulled up a bedroll that was collecting dust in the corner and laid it at least three feet away from hers. If she had another spasm attack during the night he didn't want the frontal blow. After making sure his rifle was loaded and ready next to him he laid down on his back staring at the mismatched ceiling. The night was warm but inside the shack he felt a foreign coolness and listened to the sounds of the Mojave nightlife.

.

.

.

.

" I cannot fucking believe it".

Boone inwardly rolled his eyes as she tromped on ahead of him with her fist balled and nostrils flaring.

"You shouldn't be doing that". He was right. Her heart racing the way it was would only speed up the poisons progression and cause her to use up all her painkillers before they were even halfway to Goodsprings.

"Shouldn't be doing what?" she turned flinging her arms around. "Being pissed off about losing everything? About losing the three things that were gonna get me the bloody hell out of this piss pot?"

Boone gave up and let her tromp around like a suckling without it's pacifier for a good hour. When she finally got settled she calmed down and started walking slowly by him with her head pointed to the ground. Becka's choppy hair slicked down her neck from the sweat that ran into her still bloodshot eyes.

It was an agonizingly slow, hot hour later when Becka started feeling the pain again. He stopped when she bent over her knees using her arms for support to catch her breath.

"You need to take the chems", he said letting a slight sound of worry creep into his deep voice. He could tell by the way her arms trembled and the veins on her neck bulged that the poisons effects were starting to kick back in.

"How soon…til we get there?"

"Not soon enough for you to last without taking them, three hours at the least".

With struggle the younger girl lifted herself up straight again, "I can make it".

He crossed his arms, glaring at her through his sunglasses, "no, take them now".

Becka's brows furrowed at him, but the burning in her veins was starting to wear down the wall she's built up for years. With her livid eyes still on him she grabbed the psycho syringe from the pouch he had given to her when she woke up and jabbed it in the vein in her wrist. Her lips tightened into thin lines as her face distorted into a lexis of hidden pain.

When the syringe was empty she held it up in front of his face and let it drop dramatically to the busted concrete below.

"Happy?"

"I'm never happy", he said candidly before walking off.

Becka kept her trudging pace behind him. She took the advantage of the position and studied everything she could about her new companion. The younger could tell just from the look in his eyes and the movement in his body that he had been through much, and that he was a hurt, empty shell of a man underneath it all. But he wasn't completely broken, she had found out that much. Occasionally she would see the look in his eyes when saw the world for more than just a wasteland. She had seen him smile occasionally when she spoke of plans and things she'd learned of survival.

It was a sign of hope for him.

"I guess I should say thanks".

He looked over his shoulder slightly, "for?"

"For kinda saving me, and for taking me with you to Goodsprings too. I know I promised you I'd only tag along til 188".

The sniper merely shrugged, "wasn't going to let you die".

She bit her lower left lip and watched a baby mole rat skitter away by far beside them, "so why are you going to Goodsprings anyway? Got you a Shelia there?"

"No, just checking on an old friend".

"I have a couple of pals in Goodsprings. Doc Mitchell is one of them. Maybe he'll give us a discount", she chuckled, "I stayed there for a couple of years with my dad. I wonder if Sunny is still there. We had so much fun when we were kids".

It was silent for a while after he grunted in reply. A few minutes passed and she couldn't take the silence filled with the crunching of boots any longer, "so do you have a Shelia at all?"

"What the hell does that mean?", he bit back.

"A girlfriend…wife?" Becka bit the bullet a little too hard.

He stopped, the muscles in his back tensing, and turned around to face her, "why are you asking me these questions?"

Becka winced thinking of a way to diffuse the situation, "um I- no reason just making conversation", she tried to grin innocently.

He pressed his lips together and she felt his eyes looking her up and down, "then make another conversation".

"Aye, boss", she shakily replied.

He visibly drew in a long breath through is nose, "I didn't mean to snap, sorry, just don't talk about that again". With that he turned around and kept his brisk pace leaving a rather enthralled wanderer in his wake.


End file.
